Heroes Never Die
by T.S. Atlas
Summary: As shadows fall over Valoran, the end is near. The invasion of the Void has ravaged the land, and its peoples. With rivalries broken and alliances formed, all stand on their last leg as even great champions fall. So, what can a yordle hope to accomplish? Why, capture the heart of the one he loves by becoming a hero.
1. Chapter I - The Fall

Heroes Never Die

Chapter I

The Fall

No one knew what happened, not until it was too late.

It was as if the sky opened up, a crack in space, as abyss. And from that abyss spilled darkness, falling to the lands of Valoran. And from the spilt pitch, figures formed, but no form fit any inhabitant of Valoran. Creatures, born from the void began to roam the earth, but all the while, all had their eyes pointed up to the spectacle in the sky. The most damage was done within the first few days.

She hurried as fast as she could. They didn't have much time, not with what little preparation they could make. Ziggs and Corki would buy them some time, but, would it be enough? She hurried, her body screaming beneath the weight of her cannon, but now was not the time for rest. She was a Megling Commando, and she had to get them all out of here now.

Tristana hurried through the streets of Bandle City. Few Voidborn remained within the city, but that did not mean that there wasn't any stragglers. She ran, ignoring the bodies and the rancid scents, not bothering to look down at the crimson river or the faces of the fallen. She knew the city by heart, so she didn't need to see, but, she needed to hear. The small crackling noises of the voidlings seemed to scratch within many buildings, but, she kept running. Everyone should be evacuated from this area. Everyone but…

She turned, her cannon at the ready, and began firing as much munition as she dared to spare. The creatures, small parasitic crabs, voidlings. She saw as much from Malzahar on Summoner's Rift. These were his creatures, their eyes glowing an eerie yellow and their claws trembled even with holes in what she assumed were their heads. She turned, breaking into a run. You idiot, she thought.

She came to the building panting, the large metallic garage door was shut and dented. She went to the side, finding the door. Taking a deep breath, she kicked the door down and rushed in, her weapon raised. "Rumble!" she called. "Where are you?"

The garage was dimly lit, but she could see the figure of a large mechanical golem. Tristy, it was called, a mech made by Rumble, but, it looked to have seen better days, although, even then it did not look all too well. Rumble poked his head out from beneath Tristy, a welder's mask covering his face. "Tristana?" he asked with muffled voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Me!? What are YOU doing here! We are evacuating Bandle City! The Yipsnakes are loading everyone onto a carrier and flying us out of here now! We can't afford to stay put any longer! I came here to get you!"

Rumble pushed himself out from beneath his mech, removing his mask as he stood, a welding tool in his right hand. He smiled, "I'm glad you came back for me, Tristana."

Something about the way he said that annoyed her. The little glimmer in his eyes, his honeyed voice. He was infatuated with her, she knew, but really? Does he not understand the weight of the situation right now? They had to go, they should have already been gone.

"But, I'm sorry Tristana." Rumble was short, even for a yordle. He looked up to meet Tristana's eyes, a wide grin on his face, his eyes burning with passion. "I'm staying here, to fight. I'll show you just what I can do."

He was an idiot, a poor idiot too infatuated with her. Rumble turned to go continue working on Tristy, but the sound of Tristana's cannon falling to the ground startled him. As he turned to see what had happened, he was met with a hard punch that sent him to the ground. He looked to her, shock and horror on his face, but Tristana's face streamed tears. "Tristana…" Rumble's voice was soft and quiet.

Her voice, like her entire body, seemed to shake. She didn't try to be quiet, she didn't try to hold anything in. "Stop trying to impress me, Rumble! Just…stop! What do you think you can accomplish? What can you do in that machine of yours? It's falling apart! Don't kill yourself just to impress me, Rumble! I don't love you! I love Teemo!"

Rumble sat there, dumbfounded. But as her words resonated within his head, his hands curled into fists and clenched his jaw. "If you love him, then why are you here!? Why aren't you with him instead!?"

She looked about to strike the small yordle again, but she let her next words do the damage for him. "Because I am not going to lose you as well! You are my friend, and I won't have you die by playing hero!"

Teemo was dead. She saw it happen, saw him get surrounded, saw those horrible creatures pounce on him and…

She couldn't think about it. She grabbed Rumble's arm, holding him in a vice, and started running from the garage, Rumble struggling to follow up. They had to get to the Mothership. The Mothership is a rocket, unfinished for many years that seemed almost to date before Bandle City's existence. All this time, they were getting it ready, all these years, but never did anyone think they would actually have to use it. It wasn't even finished yet, but, desperate times call for desperate measures. The Mothership was their only hope of surviving.

The Flying Yipsnakes, the aerial squadron of Bandle City, took to its intricate controls. As they neared the site, Tristana felt as though she was about to collapse, and Rumble was still stunned silent by the revelation of his rival's death.

"Get on the ship, now. I'll join as soon as I can. There is someone I need to see first." Rumble griped her hand, looking at her with puppy-dog eyes, eyes filled with passion and hurt. He looked away from her, letting go. She would have to deal with him later, though. She didn't have time for his childish.

She turned and bolted through the crowd of Yordles still flooding to the massive behemoth that was their salvation. There was one other Yordle, one person she had to find. Tristana promised her as much, promised her that she would at least try to save him. But was there anything left of him to save?

When he surrendered himself to Bandle City, many were shocked, and even more were skeptical of his motives. Was he really here to turn himself in? Did he want to change? No one really knew, no one but his companion, the only yordle who ever gave him so much of a chance, the only yordle to ever befriend him.

He was evil, pure hatred and dark spirited, he was insane with grandeur dreams of world domination. He wanted to do good. She was good in that, bringing out the good of him, making him a better person. Without her, he still would have been their enemy. Using his immense power and vast magical knowledge, he brought about a renaissance of sorts to Bandle City, a time of prosperity and advancement. And it was all thanks to him. He put up his old dark robe, so old and moth-eaten that it was a miracle it was still in one piece, and had instead received a robe of white. Since then, he had become the White Mage, a user of light, not the Master of Evil who used dark magic. She was the better half of him, but now…

She had to find him. She promised Lulu.

But what would he be? She was everything to him. She MADE him good, made him happy and smile, made what seemed impossible a reality. She was his only friend.

Tristana finally found him sitting upon a small wooden bench within the city square. His robes, once white as new-fallen snow, was now stained with crimson. He seemed to stare into space, looking somewhere far away while at the same time looking for nothing. Around him, the carrion crows began their feast, and the entire scene made her stomach churn. Why was this happening? So many had died already.

He wore a metal gauntlet on each hand, and in those hands he gripped Lulu's hat. She approached him slowly, wary. "Veigar?" she started, hesitantly. He didn't hear her, so, she called to him again. When he finally did hear her, he looked to her, his own eyes had a yellow, sickly glow to them. "Veigar…we have to go…"

"Go? Go where?"

She swallowed. "We are going to Piltover. Bandle City…Bandle City is fallen. We have to go, now."

Veigar let out a maniacal cackle. "Piltover! How do you expect to get to Piltover! It's across all of Valoran! You think those creatures will let you saunter on out of here and walk miles and miles all the way to Piltover!? You are a fool!"

Did he not know, or, had he just lost hope? "The Mothership…we are going to Piltover on the Mothership."

Veigar scoffed at her. "You really think that hunk of scrap will fly?" He looked down to Lulu's hat, a curt sneer on his lips, but at looking at her cap, a solemn expression took over his sour demeanor. He gripped it ever more tightly. "You better go. Now. I will make sure you all leave here."

"Veigar…what are you-"

"I said GO!" He stood suddenly, his eyes were a yellow fire that burned. Who was this Veigar? The mad, broken sorcerer? Or the yordle that Lulu loved? Or was he both? "Tell those idiots I will get them airborne, but after that, you are on your own."

"Veigar…you are coming with us, right?"

He shook his head. Rage and pain stormed within his burning eyes. "This will be the last good thing I do." His voice was tired. Lulu would understand him, she knew, but Tristana did not know Veigar. Did not know his past, did not know his pain, did not know his motivation or his dreams, did not know his hurts and happiness, she didn't know. What she did know, what Lulu had told her was that he was once driven to the brink. She could not begin to understand, but in those yellow, animalistic eyes of his, Tristana could see that Veigar was at his end once more.

She took a quick step toward him, kissing his cheek innocently. "Take care of yourself, you hear?" she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

If he was scared, he made good on hiding it. "Go. NOW!" he commanded.

And so, she ran, ran back to the Mothership. Everyone was already in, and as she entered and saw just how many people were there, she felt a sense of defeat. There was little under two hundred in the massive rocket. How many did they lose?

She found Rumble, taking a seat next to him. He seemed to be elsewhere, however, but he looked to her when she gripped his hand. Bandle had fallen, and the creatures from the Void massacred their race. Of course she was scared. She was terrified. This rocket was their only hope. But, Veigar was right. Could they really get to Piltover? This rocket has been here for centuries, and not once has it ever functioned. Would it fly? Would they live?

A loud bang cut the nervous silence, an explosion in the distance. Tristana knew what it was. She shut her eyes tightly, shuddering as she tightened her grip on Rumble. With his bravado gone, he seemed to recede back to a child. "What was that!" he asked panicking.

She said with pain, "Corki and Ziggs…after the Commandos took to eliminating the enemies within the city, Corki quickly devised a plan. 'Everyone to the Mothership' he said, and then, he took to distracting the remaining Voidborn before they entered the city. He went on a run, flying low to lure all the creatures away from the city. Ziggs went with him to help bomb them, to take out as many as they could…but…Ziggs took one of his Mega Inferno Bombs…they knew they weren't going to make it out…they did it for us!"

She could feel tears in her eyes, but, she held them in. Rumble was not so strong. He started shaking violently, sobbing uncontrollably. He was breaking down more than Tristy was.

Fly, Tristana thought, please, fly!

Lights came on within the rocket. Veigar scoffed. It wouldn't take off, he knew. He reached within Lulu's hat, feeling the warmth of flame around his fingers. He dropped the hat, holding the small purple flame within his palm. Her soul.

"This is it, sorceress." Even now, he could not say her name. He never called her by name. He didn't want to be close to her, and not calling her by name was a way to protect himself. And yet, that didn't work. Lulu was gone, and he lost more of himself than he knew. He raised his staff, light bending and twisting, wrapping around the rocket. It was nothing for him to simply lift the ship, to simply eject it from this broken city.

To Piltover…ha. He lifted the rocket higher and higher, and once he deemed it high enough, he wound back on his arm and flung forward, and like that, the Rocket was off on its first voyage, across all of Valoran. But, would they find safety there?

He set his eyes on the sky, how ugly it looked. The blue sky seemed corrupted by darkness that poured from the rift like puss blood from a gash. They were coming, he knew. He could feel it.

This broken city, for such a short time, it had become his home. This same place that Veigar gave up all those years ago accepted him back. He looked to the little purple flame dancing in his hand.

Yes, this is our home. He would make his seat here. He tucked the flame within the confides of his robe. He could feel its warmth, and yet, it did not burn or set his robes ablaze. He dropped his staff and began to remove the heavy gauntlets that covered his mangled hands, letting them fall to the floor carelessly as he finished unlatching them. He took this robe of white but the dark magic he imbued into his body left his fur and skin stained. He had all the power he needed right here.

He raised his hands, and the entire sky darkened. Not black like the abyss known as the void, but rather, a serene purple of bending light and darkness, and the stars began to shine within twilight. Large walls of Event Horizon rose, surrounding the city, and comets of dark matter plummeted from the sky, destroying the shell that was Bandle City, falling within the fields and the mountains.

He would not die today. He lost Lulu, so now, he would be alone, here in this ruin.

And all the while, Tristana, Rumble, and the yordles who survived the destruction of Bandle City hurtled toward Piltover within the Mothership.


	2. Chapter II - A Hero Is Born

**A/N: **First off, I am sorry I have not been updating this story. And, I must also apologize for this chapters length. But, know this. Writing chapter two is me getting back into it, and so, you can expect more to come soon. For now, I hope you enjoy this short chapter, and, I hope you can get excited, for, that is what this chapter is meant for.

Heroes Never Die

Chapter II

A Hero Is Born

Yordles aren't meant to be alone. Everyone knows that. A social species, being alone, to yordles, is torture. One such case was Veigar. Before he became the Master of Evil, before he sought to rule Valoran, before he became tinted by darkness, he was but a simple yordle, curious for the outside world.

But now, there was no world outside. Just a desolate wasteland. Following the escape from Bandle City, the yordles crashed on the outskirts of Piltover, rushing in and notifying the residents. The Police Force, led by Sheriff Caitlyn, held defense for as long as they could while Heimerdinger and Jayce worked on a more permanent defense.

But it was not without its cost.

Another champion fell in the defense of Piltover, and soon, there was no shortage of volunteers, now under the command of Vi. But they had all lost so much. With an automated system of turrets guarding the city, its occupants still live in fear.

Rumble took to his friend's workshop. Ziggs was his best friend, his only friend other than Tristana, really. Heimerdinger would bring him meals, but for a while, Rumble sat there, motionless and without purpose. He didn't have much to begin with, but, what little he did have are gone.

Tristy was destroyed, left behind in Bandle City. Ziggs was dead, and Tristana…she hadn't spoken to him, not since that day. Her words still echoed in his head.

"I won't have you die by playing hero!"

He just wanted to help. Yeah, he wanted to impress her as well, but, he wanted to fight. He was always scrappy when he was younger, and with the Voidborn destroying his home, murdering his own kind…what could he do? He sat there for days on end, until finally, the voices became too much.

He was alone, he was going mad, and all others seemed to melt away as he was left only with himself. "Pathetic! What are you a child!?" He could raise no protest, just endure it. "You are no hero, Rumble! You will never be a hero! Not when you, yourself, need to be saved!" His hands clutched into tight fists. They were true words, words that stung. "Others died for you, Rumble? And look at you. You weren't worth the sacrifice!"

He stood, throwing tools and schematics everywhere as he went berserk, clutching his head, but the voice wouldn't stop, not even when he begged for silence between his sobs. "WHAT ARE YOU, RUMBLE!? WHAT WILL YOU DO!?"

And finally, silence took over. His head was pounding, and he was in tears, pained and alone. But, he felt that he couldn't leave this place, he felt like this place, dark and stuffy, is where he belongs. He should have just died.

He looked up when he heard a soft clink. A bomb shell fell to the floor from the workbench, rolling softly to his side as he propped himself up against the wall, having fallen himself. He held it in his hands. He had been here in the dark for so long, he became used to the lack of light. On the shell, he saw a white skull, the signature Ziggs used on all of his hexplosive creations. All around him, on the floor, were schematics for more of his projects and inventions. All around him, thrown about in a fit of panic and pain, tools. "What are you, Rumble?" This time, it wasn't the voice within that spoke to him, but rather, his own. "What will you become?" He set to work.

It had only been two years since the Void invaded, but it felt like a different lifetime. For Rumble, however, this was truer. The voice that spoke to him that night so long ago ceased its hauntings, but rather, he embraced it. For two years, the citizens of Piltover lived behind walls, relying on the automated defense system created by the cities two most intelligent minds. They were alive, but they did not truly lived. They simply existed, in fear and misery.

"Fear has taken its hold on the hearts of the innocent." The voice was different, it wasn't Rumble. It wasn't the childish Yordle, the smallest of the litter who scrapped and fought and only wanted to prove himself. All that was behind him, as he was truly reborn. His past matters did not matter, not anymore. "It's time to strike hope in their hearts! And so, it begins!"

A voice rang out in the darkness, a machine's voice. "Systems online."

He gave a wide grin.

"This city, no, this world! They need hope! They need…a hero!"


End file.
